SPLIT PART 1 (A)
In the dying embers of a burnt-out day,
When morning seems a thousand hours away,
Dark prevails and the light gives up the fight to stay.
The blackness thickens and surrounds,
Masking all but distant sounds,
I seek for thought to occupy still conscious mind.
As calm and peace surround my bed,
I feel that sleep is not far ahead,
But in place of slumber comes a bolt of fear instead.